


a long-overdue impulsive decision

by electronic_elevator



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: (technically) - Freeform, College, Crying, Damien is very in love with you, Diapers, Embarrassment, Enthusiastic Consent, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Gender Neutral AFAB Reader, Incontinence, Multiple Endings, Other, POV Second Person, Post-Coital Cuddling, VERY SOFT I cannot stress enough how soft I am for this fic, Watersports, all endings are happy, but only in the one branch, so Y/N is actually the future district attorney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electronic_elevator/pseuds/electronic_elevator
Summary: It has suddenly come to your attention that you are in love with your dear friend. You don’t want to waste any more time — perhaps you rush into intimacy, but you don’t regret it one bit.CYOA!! Looking for simply a fluffy first-time-together fic? Looking for that, but where Damien’s incontinent? Hoping Damien’ll have an accident during? You can have it all!
Relationships: Damien | The Mayor/Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, to reiterate — if you’re just craving vanilla content, you can avoid piss-related stuff. But incontinent Damien owns my heart, so. 
> 
> At the end of each section, I’ll list the options in the end author’s note in the form of which number chapter to go to. This is my first time using a format like this, but I think it should work alright, assuming I don't screw it up! (Feel free to let me know if you have thoughts on that front in the comments, in case I do a fic this complex again.)
> 
> As the tags say, the reader character is gender neutral but AFAB. Background: You are the future District Attorney, currently in college. You live in a dorm/apartment with Damien and Mark, who are both your very close friends.

It… _had been_ a normal night. What had changed? What was different? 

Well, Mark was away. It was just you and Damien, but that wasn’t anything uncharted. You’d spent countless hours alone together. …So why had you looked up to, for the first time, notice exactly how much fondness and affection Damien’s gaze held? Then, because you couldn’t stop glancing back to him, realizing it was… every time he looked at you. 

Was it mirrored back at him? He should know he was dear to you. You _wanted_ him to know how much you valued him and his friendship. Somehow, the look in his eyes was more than that, though. Was the feeling in your heart more than that, too? 

He laughed at something you said, and that certainly wasn’t for the first time either, but you just felt… light. A fluttering in your chest and an irresistible smile tugging at your lips — at the fact you’d made him happy enough to laugh, at the way he looked as he did. Nothing should be any different, so why _was it_? 

If this meant what you was starting to think it did, what would it mean for the two of you? You were too caught up in trying to decipher your feelings; a strangely weighted silence had fallen. You, unaware, glanced at Damien again. This time, your gaze fell on his lips, and you wondered what it might be like to kiss him. 

The silence finally came to your attention at the same time as the fact that Damien had absolutely noticed. You flushed. He was watching you quietly, and looked a little guilty — like he’d been the one caught — but his eyes were so open and so full of fondness, and he was still smiling… something a little sheepish and maybe a little hopeful.

Part of you wanted to say you were reading too much into everything, and perhaps needed a good night’s sleep to straighten out your thoughts… but somehow, that didn’t feel so convincing. 

Damien was sitting so close that you could feel his warmth, and even now, it was comfortable, welcome. It always was. Your gaze flickered back to his lips, then up to his eyes. What if you did? 

Damien finally broke the silence, perhaps feeling awkward. “…Do you want to…?” His voice was low, but still casual — and still uncertain. 

You hesitated. He’d left room for you to deny what you were feeling or redirect the question, but then you would miss this opportunity, and if one never came again… In an exhale, you replied, “Yes.”

You leaned in to join your lips in a kiss that started softly. A moment later, you felt Damien’s hand light on your arm, and you reached out, trying to find his other hand, though your eyes had fallen closed and so you missed; the hand ended up on his thigh. Damien readily deepened the kiss, his mouth working against yours and the gentle hand on your arm sliding to your back, pulling you closer. When you parted for a deeper breath — just slightly — Damien’s eyes were dark with want already, and you was somewhat surprised.

To prevent yourself from asking _“how long, Damien?”_ , you kissed him again. Your other hand went to his face, as if to keep him close to you. A few minutes passed, and Damien kept tugging you — gently but insistently, as if asking you to get closer still; you were already up against his side, so you had to slide onto his lap, and then sat straddling him.

Distantly, you realized how long it had been since you’d done anything like this. You didn’t go out as much anymore, and when you did, it was far more likely you’d stumble back to the apartment than spend the night with someone else. Damien and Mark had been doing the same — more and more, you all spent time together. You laughed lightly. 

“What is it?” Damien asked, curious in the caring way.

“Oh, just… realizing some things. That it’s been a while,” you shared, smiling fondly. 

Damien smiled back and ran a hand through your hair. “Well, you certainly haven’t lost your touch,” he promised, teasing. It was then that you noticed the tightness in his pants — Damien was getting hard; those weren’t idle words. Having seen you look downward, he blushed just slightly.

Damien seemed to be moving to say something more, but it was your turn to ask. You mirrored his words: “Do you want to…?” This had already been a hell of a development, but somehow asking him to go further didn’t feel as quick or as impulsive as it truthfully might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want to take the "vanilla" path —> Chapter 2
> 
> or for either of the paths where Damien’s incontinent —> Chapter 3


	2. Chapter 2

“Yes,” he replied immediately, but then a moment later amended, “Only if you do.”

“I do,” you confirmed. Your hands cupped his face tenderly as you leaned in to kiss him again. 

Never leaving you for more than a moment, he shifted you back off his lap, laying you down on the couch. Your hands went to the button of Damien’s pants and he stood briefly to cast the clothes to the floor, revealing himself to you without fanfare, though you took in the sight with unconcealed want. Damien kept his shirt on, climbing back over you and moving to help you undress. With his help, you wiggled out of your pants and underwear without standing up. Small whorls of anxiety rose up but were quickly quelled because Damien looked _more_ than content with what he saw. You wanted him closer — inside you — and he seemed to want the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continue —> Ch 4


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight POV switch to include Damien’s thoughts. Secondly, yes — this takes place after [cancellations and revelations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28684734)! But, you don’t really have to read that one first. (It’s cute, though...)

“Yes,” Damien said in a breath. After all the times he’d talked himself out of kissing you, holding your hand, or asking you to be his — it had been so long, too long, but now that you’d made the first move, he didn’t want to stop as long as you didn’t. You were so close, and so lovely, and for the first time indicating in no uncertain terms that you might think the same of him that he did of you. Of course he was reacting physically — how could he not?

…As unhesitantly as he had confessed his desire to go further with you, though, he hesitated after that. You knew about Damien’s incontinence, but it was almost certain you weren’t actively thinking about it or actively aware of the related fact that Damien was in a diaper — and a wet one, to his shame — right then. He was going to have to remind you, firstly to explain why he needed to step away (as he would _not_ change in front of you; that would simply be too embarrassing) but secondly because, even if he tried to go before you got started, there was a chance he might wet himself at some point during intercourse. If the reminder alone wasn’t enough to turn you off, that unavoidable fact might be, and Damien’s stomach twisted uncomfortably with embarrassment and nervousness. 

Damien’s expression tended to give away more than he thought it did. You could see there was something bothering him, although you weren’t sure what. In the second of silence, you brought a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek tenderly. “We don’t have to,” you said, with concern but no disappointment. If he was having second thoughts, you’d much rather not. 

“I do want to, Y/N,” Damien insisted wholeheartedly. “But— ah, well, you… remember, right? My, um, condition?” Damien felt his face heat up, but held your gaze even as your eyes widened with a slight “oh!” You dropped your hand, but didn’t move away.

“Oh, I— yeah, I remember,” you said. You wouldn’t say you’d forgotten, but… well, it had been out of mind in this particular moment. As well as most other moments. Damien’s clothes concealed his diapers well, and he almost always kept them covered around you, so it just didn’t come up very often. But you didn’t mind — not in the everyday, and not now. You figured it was possible, though, that there was something about whatever condition caused his incontinence that also affected the way he needed or wanted to have sex, so you asked a bit awkwardly, “What, um, about it?” 

“…I wanted to make sure it didn’t… affect how you felt about me,” he started shyly. “That, and, well… it’s possible I’ll… pee a little. I-I can’t control it, so, there’s a chance.” By the end, Damien began to worry if his face might literally catch fire. 

You noticed his discomfort and gave him a soothing smile. “It’s alright. No, it doesn’t make a difference to me, Damien. This kind of thing is never very clean anyway, is it?” Your hand returned to his blushing face, and you kissed him again, softly and completely sure, and Damien melted. Hearing you, his longtime crush, telling him you wanted him — telling him you didn’t mind even if he peed on you. If he hadn’t already been smitten… 

“Okay,” he said, quietly and from a hair’s breadth away after your lips parted. “Let me get undressed; I’m going to step into the bathroom.” 

You wanted to stay close but understood, and nodded, pressing a last needful kiss to his lips. 

Damien hurried away, wanting to minimize the embarrassing logistical portion of the evening, and to not keep you waiting. He hadn’t been planning on changing downstairs and so wasn’t really prepared to, but he certainly could. He stepped out of his pants and took off his diaper cover. Once his diaper was carefully unpinned and removed, he folded it so the wet portions were hidden, set it inside the cover, and hid both under his pants, just in case someone came in before him. (Normally, he’d never do such a thing, but to take care of it properly would take entirely too long.) Before he wiped himself down, he stood by the toilet and relaxed, trying to pee despite being semi-hard and in a hurry. (You had accepted the risks and all, but Damien truly might die if he did pee on you, and wanted to minimize the chance of it.) Luckily, he managed to go a little, and hoped that meant he was empty. With a washcloth, he wiped himself down with less care than he normally would during a change, but enough that he felt clean enough to return to you. 

Between it all, his erection had flagged a bit, so he quickly stroked himself a few times… especially since he’d realized that you would see him for the first time as soon as he walked out. While his length was certainly respectable and all that, he’d rather make the best impression he could if the two of you were doing this. He almost had to laugh at the strangeness of the situation, but instead headed back out to you. 

You’d undressed while you waited — similarly, only your bottom half, and now you sat on the couch waiting for him. Damien was flattered to see your face first light up at seeing him, then your eyes widen and darken with want as your gaze dropped to his cock. “I’m ready,” he told you, and as he approached you parted your legs just slightly, enough to allow him to settle back beside you, and enough to give him the first glance of you.

The heat in you hadn’t waned in the time he was gone, and you reached up for him, pulling him close to you. Damien readily kissed you — maybe he was making up for lost time, but he’d take every opportunity he could to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continue —> Ch 4


	4. Chapter 4

You moved a hand down near his dick, asking “May I…?” When he breathed his consent, you began pumping his length slowly, enjoying the way he sighed. With your other hand, you went to work on yourself — until Damien noticed a moment later.   
“Let me,” he said. You found you didn’t care that he probably couldn’t work you up like you could yourself. In lieu of a verbal response, you switched to using your now-slick-covered hand on him — Damien’s breath hitched, either due to the change in sensation or simply from knowing what it was. 

He hadn’t forgotten his offer, though, to take care of you. “You said it had been a while?” Damien asked to confirm in a low, slightly unsteady voice. You gave a small gasp at the feeling of his fingers on you, exploring around your entrance. You nodded, if a beat late. He traced right where you were most sensitive, and you tried to shift against his hand but he moved to push a finger into your core instead — just one, but it was thicker than your own, and it was Damien’s, and you were glad he paused just a second because your thoughts were surprisingly scrambled. “Good?” he asked gently. 

You nodded again; you realized you’d stopped attending to Damien and felt rather bad about it, but he didn’t seem to mind and gently brushed your hand away when you tried to go back to it. Carefully, slowly, Damien began to move the finger in and out of you, simultaneously rubbing you with his thumb.

You only tolerated the foreplay for a minute or so before nuzzling your noses together, telling him (maybe more needily than you expected) “That’s plenty, Damien—” because this wasn’t enough; you wanted him _closer._

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, pausing to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I want this to feel good for you.”

He was too sweet, you thought, but then he added a second finger rather than retracting and giving you what you truly wanted, and you whined out a “Please!” before you realized what you were saying.

Damien kissed you again, and worked his fingers more quickly, but still lingered another minute before finally withdrawing them. He pumped his momentarily-neglected cock, re-slicking himself with the fingers that had been inside of you. He had to glance down to line himself up, but when your eyes met again, you were again struck by just how much affection was there — warmth and desire and care and a last note of “ _are you sure?_ ” that vanished when Damien saw there wasn’t a trace of doubt in your face. 

He pushed into you with a stifled gasp, and you sighed his name. Your fingers gently curled against his back as you adjusted your legs, splaying your thighs as far as you could to let him bury himself completely. This was so exactly what you wanted — Damien, as close to you as possible, filling you up. 

He brought you back to earth with a gentle kiss. “Ready?” 

After your enthusiastic nod, Damien began to move, slowly at first (ever-cautious) but quickly building up to a moderate pace. His little noises — sighs and not-quite-whimpers; you hadn’t drawn a moan from him yet — let you know, to your delight, that he was enjoying this like you were. The feeling intensified when, the next time he pulled back, he looked a little dazed with pleasure, pupils blown wide. You ran a hand through his hair, shifting up to kiss him for what must’ve been the thousandth time — or, perhaps this was all best considered the first: an extended, impulsive, beautiful first. Even as he got close, he was still steady and gentle with you, but you could tell from the increasing _need_ in the noises that slipped out between his breaths. 

After just a few more thrusts, he cried out your name, burying deep inside you as he came. You felt him twitch inside of you as his voice fell away to a moan. His head dipped and he nuzzled into your neck just above your shirt collar; his hair, long since mussed up, brushed soft against your cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the vanilla path, or to take the incontinence path where Damien is lucky —> Ch 5  
> To take the path where Damien is not lucky (cw watersports, technically) —> Ch 8


	5. Chapter 5

“Damien,” you murmured, hazy with unspent pleasure. (You were sure you could ask him to help you finish, but it didn’t seem that important.)

Damien caught his breath for a few quiet moments after his orgasm before he pulled out, and you tried not to make a face at the much-less-comfortable sensation of cum dripping out of you. Damien paused, gently brushing your hair back; his hand came to rest cupping your face. “Was that good?” he asked with a smile.

You, returning the smile naturally, replied, “Yeah… more than good.” You’d intended to continue — to pick some better word than “good,” but “lovely” was among the words that came to mind, and you became distracted again. You’d done this, and you didn’t regret it at all, but… what should come next for you? You hadn’t sorted out your feelings, even — hence why you shied away from any word containing “ _love._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanilla —> Ch 6  
> Incontinence —> Ch 7


	6. Chapter 6

Damien sensed your hesitation. “…Here, let me clean you up a bit,” he said instead of revealing whether or not he was thinking the same things. 

For the first moment in what felt like a long time, he broke physical contact with you, but only stayed away long enough to fish out his handkerchief from his pants pocket. “It’s clean, don’t worry,” he said as he settled back beside you. He moved to wipe you up, but paused to make sure you were alright with it before actually touching you again. Gently, quickly, he cleared away the residue between your legs and on your thighs. Then, he folded the handkerchief over and cleaned himself up the same way. 

“Thank you,” you murmured. You adjusted just a bit, opening your arms in a clear invitation for Damien to lay down beside you, which he accepted, so you settled together. 

He was looking at you almost expectantly, but you didn’t speak, only returning his gaze with soft eyes. This was the difficult part. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked, finally.

You were quiet for another few seconds — probably long enough to make him nervous, but it was so important that you pulled your thoughts together. “I… really enjoyed that. I really like you, Damien, and I… don’t think I realized how much, until… very recently.” 

Damien chuckled at that, and you had to giggle with him. “I’m not sure what this all means,” you finished. You wished you could give him a better answer… but weren’t sure what you wanted. 

He brushed his fingers through your hair again, eyes shining with adoration in a way that made you positively melt. “That’s okay,” he said, like a promise. “I’m happy to have you like this, like we have been, or… any other way,” Damien confessed. 

You was glad he didn’t want a concrete answer. You needed a bit to think about everything. His honest patience didn’t surprise you at all, though, and certainly didn’t reduce the warm feeling in your heart. 

“Okay. Thank you. We’ll talk more… for now, though…” you trailed off, instead snuggling into his side. You just wanted to stay like this for a bit… just the two of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've reached an ending!! Congratulations and I hope you enjoyed. :3 Maybe leave a comment and tell me what you thought. 🥰
> 
> Or, read the short and silly lil continuation where Mark (the Actor, that is) comes home and catches you there —> Ch 9


	7. Chapter 7

Damien sensed your hesitation. He felt a swoop of exhilaration and fear — exhilaration because you had enjoyed what you’d shared as much as he had, and fear because… now that you’d gone and done it, there was going to have to be some aftermath sort of conversation. This was the difficult part. He was looking at you almost expectantly, but you didn’t speak, only returning his gaze with soft eyes.

He couldn’t talk yet, though. Firstly, you’d both gotten a mess (although, he couldn’t deny the sight of you covered in your slick and his cum roused a thrill of heat in him, even though he’d just finished), but secondly… he had no protection here on the couch, and the longer he went without a diaper, the more likely it was that he’d pee on something or on you. “It was wonderful for me, too, but I… I need to, at least, go and… put my diaper back on,” Damien said, voice falling from warm and loving to small and embarrassed. He’d outgrown a lot of the shame surrounding his incontinence, but this was new. He’d killed the mood again; he must be the least desirable bachelor on campus. All he wanted to do was cuddle with you, but he was too nervous to wait any longer — and for what he knew was good reason. 

“Oh, of course,” you said, with a note of sympathy. “I understand; go make yourself comfortable. But… come back after?” 

“Of course!” Damien was standing already. He didn’t want to _prove_ his need to you. “Thank you for understanding,” he said honestly. He was still processing the fact that you liked him in this way — diapers and all. 

Damien tried to hurry, first of all wiping himself clean with another wet washcloth. Again, for the sake of time, he chose to do something’d normally never — with a grimace of disgust, he re-pinned the already wet diaper around him. It was cold, and something about doing so felt dirty, which was of course a little illogical as he’d normally have been wearing it this whole time. It would be worth it, though, to be back in your arms quickly. He stepped into his pants, too, hiding the diaper. You’d seen him in them before, but… he absolutely couldn’t imagine having a serious, important conversation with you in just a diaper. (He supposed he could picture the cuddling he so desired in such a state… but the mental image made him flush red yet again.) 

With a last glance in the mirror — his unkempt hair and untucked shirt didn’t matter — he rushed back out to the main room, feeling truthfully much more secure. “Do you want to get cleaned up, too? Before we cuddle?” Damien asked, but then immediately realizing what he’d said. “I-I mean, if you want to do that— I know I, uh, cut things short—”

You smiled. “Of course I want to.” You leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Cuddle, that is, but also to clean up. I’ll be right back.” 

You left after grabbing your clothes, and it was Damien’s turn to sink down on the couch. He wondered what he should say to you. 

You used the bathroom and cleaned yourself up quickly. You were collecting your thoughts… Mostly, lightheartedly berating yourself for how blind you’d been to this wonderful man and how much you— cared about him. You certainly didn’t want to ruin what you had by pushing for something else, and you needed to talk to him… but you were happy. 

You dried your hands and hurried back out to Damien. He’d partially reclined on the couch, and brightened when he saw you, fidgeting his position without committing to an adjustment, like he wasn’t sure whether to lay down or sit up. (He didn’t want to be presumptuous…)

“So, about that cuddle…” you said, and Damien brightened even further, pleased and giddy. You laid beside him, coaxing him to commit to really holding you, and it felt so good. Like it had earlier — just being _together_ , so close, was so _good_. You’d planned to speak, but instead let the quiet moment stretch out. 

Damien felt the same, with the added relief that he hadn’t missed out on this just for needing clean up. He started to think, ‘When we do this again, I should ask to lay some towels down, if they _really_ don’t mind, so I don’t have to run away right after,’ but immediately had to correct himself — listen to him! _When._

…But, he wanted a next time. And more cuddles in the evenings, kisses during your study sessions, holding hands as you walked to class… but only if it would make you happy. He brushed his fingers through your hair, eyes shining with adoration in a way that made you positively melt when you looked up at him. “Y/N, I really care for you.” 

“…I really care for you, too, Damien. I don’t think I realized how much until… very recently.” Damien chuckled at that, and you had to giggle in response. “I’m not sure what I want,” you said, much quieter and much more soberly. There were other considerations… other people to think of, and logistics and image concerns (as much as you hated that one, you were both future politicians and thus needed to consider them) on top of your own feelings.

“That’s okay,” he said immediately, like a promise. It almost surprised him that hearing that didn’t disappoint him. Of course he’d wanted you to say you’d like to _be together_ , officially, but that wasn’t what mattered. “I’m happy to have you like this, like we have been, or… any other way,” Damien confessed. 

His honest patience didn’t surprise you at all, though, and certainly didn’t reduce the warm feeling in your heart. “Damien…” you sighed, leaning into his chest. “I like this a lot. I want this, things like this. We can… work out the details later. Right?” 

He held you close, nuzzling into your hair, feeling so hopeful and happy and _so lucky._ “Right.” 

You stayed together there, sharing soft words and kisses, caresses, and body heat, for quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've reached an ending!! This one is maybe my favorite of the three; it's just... really fuckn sweet. Please let me know what you thought! Or loop for one of the other two paths.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only spot in this fic where feelings veer towards the negative, but it's a happy ending, I promise.

You felt yourself fill up with him and gave a little whimpering sigh. After a few moments, Damien was spent, but his head was still clouded and spinning and all he could think of was how _perfect_ you were; he’d relaxed slightly, and for a moment you just stayed together. 

But, then, you felt something else — for a second, you were confused; inside, it felt similar to when he’d cum, but Damien had surely finished, and then you felt something wet and warm dripping out of you around him — more quickly and in larger quantity than you would expect from cum. You suddenly remembered his nervous warnings. “D-Damien,” you stammered, unsure what to say as he hadn’t noticed. 

The haze of pleasure cleared from his eyes rapidly as his concern took hold — did he hurt you? Did he do something wrong? He moved to pull out of you, beginning to ask, “What’s wr—” until he identified the trickling of piss out of and on himself and cut off in horror. His face went bright red. “I-I’m _so_ sorry,” he said, quickly moving back on the couch — on the _couch_?! Fuck, why’d he jump into this without so much as putting a towel down — but he knew the answer to that. He’d been impulsive because of just how _long_ he’d waited and how much he wanted you. You looked mostly at a loss and concerned, but a little disgusted, and that made him feel almost sick. He’d thought pissing _on_ you would be horrible — he’d not even thought about _this_. Surely you’d never want to be intimate with him again, and his heart broke at the thought. He’d already made a mess. There was a small wet patch under you of mixed piss and cum but it was still dribbling out of him, too, no doubt leaving another wet spot. He’d _gone_ before, so he didn’t know how there was so much… It was absolutely humiliating. He tried to cover himself; he couldn’t stop it, and was unable to stand the thought of you seeing him pissing. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he repeated, and didn’t realize until he heard his voice that he was nearly in tears. 

It had taken you a second to recover, but upon seeing how upset Damien was getting, you sat up (trying to keep a neutral face despite the sensation of shifting in the mixed slickness on and below you) and leaned towards him. “It’s okay,” you said, and you meant it. You had been… a little off-put at actually experiencing that, but you weren’t disgusted with him. “Damien, really, you warned me; I knew it could happen.” You were trying to think this through — surely, you both needed to go clean up immediately, not to mention figuring out how to take care of the couch, but you weren’t going to jump to that when Damien was so clearly upset. “Are you— done?” you asked, hoping it wasn’t as tactless as it felt. Damien stiffened, almost pulling back from you.

The way Damien’s cheeks were burning, he surely couldn’t flush deeper, but he was certainly further humiliated because he knew he was going to have to actually look down to be sure. He didn’t _think_ he was still going, but with everything wet and hot and his mind racing, he was going to need to check. Better that than being wrong. His breathing hitched into a sob. You knew and that had been fine, even comforting, until today — he’d never wanted you to see, firsthand, exactly how little control he had. Wishing for divine intervention, he ducked his head, moving his hand, and, no, he wasn’t pissing anymore. He wanted to tell you that you should go clean up, but he was so close to breaking down crying that he didn’t trust his own voice even to answer your question. To buy him a second to compose himself, he shook his head in the affirmative, avoiding your eyes. 

He looked miserable, and it wrenched your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel worse, though, so it was cautiously that you continued, “Come here, Damien; I promise, it’s all okay… We’ll clean, and so will the couch. I’m not mad or anything like that, but I am absolutely not willing to get up and leave when you’re so upset.” You held out your arms in clear invitation to bring him into a hug. 

Damien _knew_ you were being sincere — he knew _you,_ and you would never lie to him about something like this. Even as wretched as he was feeling, it soothed him slightly. Some of the warm fondness for you (which he had so much of) chased out a bit of the humiliation and disgust. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised that that pushed him closer to crying; tears were making his vision swim, so he had to blink to dislodge them, and welled up immediately. He _should_ insist you clean up — at least first — but he _really_ wanted that hug. He leaned forward, another breath turning into a sob, and wrapped his arms around you. 

You held him close with all intent to let him cry as he needed to, feeling the way his chest heaved with little sobs and hearing the flutter of his breaths and his sniffles. You hadn’t thought through the implications of what had sprung to your lips, but as you spoke, you stood by them. “… I-If we do this again, we can put something down, right? Like, towels, or some kind of protector.” 

Damien was struck with an almost-laugh, a somewhat pathetic noise that briefly interrupted his tears. ‘Again?’ ‘If,’ you’d said, but the fact that you were even _considering_ any sort of _again_ after he’d pissed inside you then broken down crying about it made him feel — well, a lot of things. You were _so_ special. If you were okay with all of _this_ , then… the two of you might have something special. Damien had thought he couldn’t fall for you more completely, but here he was. But it was nerve-wracking to have you this close, to be this vulnerable in front of you. Oh, and he was again embarrassed, because — well, yeah, he should’ve done that to begin with, and if he had, this situation would be at least marginally better. 

“…Damien?” you said, concerned. 

He’d been so thrown by the ‘again’ that he’d forgotten you’d asked him a question. He’d calmed down enough to pull back a bit, though he didn’t part from you completely. He allowed your gentle touch and warmth to comfort him as he answered, “Y-yes, I’m— sorry. Yes, we could; I… should’ve this time.” 

You were both quiet for a second, then Damien continued, “I’m sorry, but also… _thank_ you. Really. Though, we should really go clean up. I’ve got the couch — I, um, I know how, so… I’ll get it. You go ahead and shower.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your temple, lingering and deeply affectionate. Somehow, even after all that, it made him a little nervous — it wasn’t friendly, it wasn’t sexual; it was just romantic. You hadn’t discussed that — hadn’t discussed _anything_ you’d done, actually — and he’d realized he didn’t know if you wanted something just _romantic._ He knew he did.

You felt your heart flutter. You wished you could stay with him, but really, he was right about cleaning up. “Okay,” you said softly, standing — and as you did, remembering exactly why and how badly you needed to clean up. You tried not to wince. “Okay,” you repeated, more resolved, and after one more lingering look, hurried into the bathroom. 

Damien moved — and realized his pants, and his diaper, were on the floor of said bathroom. He did his best to chase away the jolt of anxiety it caused — even if you looked, which he knew you wouldn’t, after everything you’d seen, it certainly wouldn’t be a dealbreaker. 

He did not want to risk making more of a mess as he tried to clean up the couch, so he had to figure out what to do about protection. Anything he put on _now_ he’d want to throw in the laundry after he was able to shower… He ran upstairs to hastily step into a pair of plastic pants with a single cloth to catch any dribbles… and then, even though he knew it was probably silly and a waste of laundry, a loose pair of pants to cover it all. 

Despite his best efforts, even in the apartment he’d had to clean up after a couple of accidents, so (even though what had been left on the couch was _rather a lot_ ) he just had to go through the motions. It would be a while before it dried — probably until the next day — and Damien flushed, realizing he might have to tell Mark to avoid it, depending on when he came home.

You came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you and holding your shirt when he was partway through cleaning the second spot. Damien blushed a bit deeper — sure, he’d just seen you naked from the waist down, but in retrospect, hadn’t he ever seen your shoulders..?!

You noted his reaction and were, well, a bit flattered by it. This had been surely a strange encounter, but really a lovely one. You could’ve just given him a nod and continued upstairs, but you didn’t want to be apart from him just yet. And you should talk. “Sorry, my pants..?” you started. 

“Right — I, uh, folded your pants for you,” Damien said, gesturing to where they sat over the back of the chair. 

You picked them up, adding to the little pile in your hands. “Thank you; I’m just gonna put them all in the laundry and put on pajamas instead. … Do you… after you finish that, and shower, what will you be doing?” 

“Uh…” The two of you had been studying, but he would not be going back to that tonight. “I’m not sure, why?” 

“Well… why don’t you come up to my room, after? We should talk, I think, but also… I’d just like to spend some more time with you,” you said. “We had to rush off.” 

“Oh,” Damien said softly. The _talking_ might be hard, but you were right — it was necessary — and… he always loved spending time with you, in any form. “I’d like that, too. I’ll come up.” 

You smiled, then nodded and headed off. “Okay; see you soon, Damien.” 

Damien hurried to finish off the other spot on the couch. He’d check it again in the morning to make sure they’d come clean — or as clean as possible — but that was alright for now, and he put away the cleaning supplies in favor of finally hopping into the shower. 

Afterwards, he did join you in your room, and soon after, your bed. (Just to hold each other.) You talked about your shared fondness, and it turned out you both liked the idea of letting it grow into what shape it may — though it seemed you both hoped that shape would include more cuddling (as you were currently), kisses (with some given as examples), as well as what you’d done earlier (though, in Damien’s opinion, ideally with less pee). So, the talking _wasn’t_ hard, actually, and neither was gently drifting off to sleep in each others’ arms after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've reached an ending! I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a comment!


	9. Chapter 9

After a quiet, lovely, longer-than-you-thought-it-was stretch of time, keys jangled in the door and Mark let himself in. Neither you nor Damien heard his movements until the door slammed shut, at which time you both panicked, disentangling and sitting up quickly but having only the time to grab discarded clothing and not to put it back on. Damien just laid his pants across his lap; you ended up with yours half-bunched-up on your own, and then Mark had made it into the room. For half a second his seemingly-disgruntled demeanor brightened, but then it turned to disgust. “Oh, god, you two— out here, really?!” He spun around, clapping a hand over his eyes for good measure — as if he hadn’t seen you both in swimsuits and nightclothes and the like that had you as “exposed” as you were now. 

“W-what?” Damien asked, bewildered and blushing. (Mark’s lack of surprise took the question of “Why are you home?!” right out of Damien’s mouth.)

You supposed it was true — you probably should’ve moved to your room, but Mark had been supposed to be gone overnight…

“Come, now; it was obvious to everyone that this was inevitable,” Mark scoffed. “About damn time. Just… one of you, clean up the couch. I won’t be sitting there until you do.” He spun, hitting the direction of the stairs pretty accurately before splaying his fingers and walking towards them. “Goodnight,” he called. 

You had to laugh. You were sorry you’d scared him off before he told you if everything was alright and why he was home early, but at least you seemed to have his blessing. Damien gave you a somewhat apologetic look before slipping into laughter with you, and you leaned on his side, head resting against his shoulder. 

“Maybe we _should_ get up. He’s right; we need to clean the couch.” As much as you didn’t want to move…

“Yeah… we should,” Damien agreed, still giggling a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this is really the ending. :3 (Sigh. It's very silly to be in a fandom where saying "the vanilla ending," which is a really good way to describe this path and ending, is like a loaded phrase.) Consider playing one of the other paths! They're sweet, I promise.


End file.
